


HEBL

by herrscher



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, henir makes good boys horny, this is pure pwp sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-04-18 05:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14206056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herrscher/pseuds/herrscher
Summary: listen i lost control of my life and this is just HEBL smut





	1. Chapter 1

It's a strange setup that the two devise, ethereal hands supporting Bluhen's lithe form as he relaxes into them, braid undone and head thrown back as wispy fingers run over his body, seek out the most sensitive parts of his arms, his legs. Shadow slides along the underside of his left thigh, and he quakes, breath picking up.

That isn't to say that Herrscher's situation is any more favorable, though. The sight before him, Bluhen giving himself in to feeling, to lust, something too-human, that neither should comprehend, but the gentle whisper of his name as the hands pull at Bluhen's clothing, skin tight, makes him question such a train of thought. The hands are somewhat rougher than he wants them to, wills them to be, and that's partially due to Henir's own will, and partially due to his fluctuating thoughts. What once was focused completely upon Bluhen's pleasure alone becomes muddled into a mixture of interest and intrigue for both of theirs. He wishes he could get closer, but can't, if only for the other's comfort and to keep his mark from reacting negatively to his presence.

Almost as if frustrated with the slowness, the fact that the hands are inept with removing his clothes, Bluhen frees his arms for a moment or two, does it himself instead, fabric collapsing into a discarded heap on the ground below. The hands almost immediately move back to replace their grip on his wrists, a gentle restraint. Never too harsh yet not loose in the slightest, and it doesn't seem to be something that Bluhen himself dislikes. His fingers clench and release empty air, as if seeking purchase, there as the fingers begin to move. Fingers tease the insides of his thighs and move at a teasingly slow speed, a silhouetted limb finding its way to his most sensitive, wrapping around skin and jerking at taut flesh, eased yet rough. Were it an actual hand, perhaps it'd be calloused, textured, yet those hands feel like nothing yet everything at the same time. Were Herrscher in a better position, perhaps he'd be prone to taunt, tease the other for his reaction to the hands, but his own place in their arrangement has him with his eyes closed, trying to focus his will, his desires for Bluhen through those hands.

Fingertips press against him, against and in, and the other sucks in a breath, trying to control his emotions, no doubt. The faint glow of his eids is unmistakable, bright energy only found from his unique blend of Ishmael's power and El. What form his power takes, he can't tell, but the strength of it, feeling close to bursting from its intensity...

The hands move faster, jerking and pushing, caressing parts that he wishes he could do with his own hands rather than just through a pitiful replacement such as what they do now. He wants to feel Bluhen against him, and the cry of his name —

"Herr—," he starts, breathing erratic. He's close, and hardly attempting to hide the fact, toes curling and back arching, hands of Henir hardly trying to prevent him from doing so; rather, they support him, as his back curves, taut like a bow. "Please. More. I need—," a throaty growl as he grinds down, tries to find friction where there is none to be discovered, "you."

"Do you know what you're asking for?" Of course he does, and the small smile that plays upon his lips, puffed from teeth digging into them and appearing even more attractive with the red that dusts his cheeks...

"I know. I'll be fine, I promise."

Bluhen is his self-restraint, in a way. He need just say the word and his hesitance shatters, hands on him, and the effect is easily noted, his mark glowing a faint bluish tone, breathing picking just slightly up. To others, it might not be too much of a change, not easily perceived as a difference, but the way his hips stutter and spasm, still grinding down into fingertips... The hands move a minute later, and Bluhen's arms wrap around his neck, pull him closer, into an open-mouthed kiss he can hardly deny the other, let alone himself. It's selfish, in a way, and he can tell the growing frantic nature of Bluhen's movements as his hips move into his, the growl against his mouth, fingers digging into flesh and bone, nails digging into hips as they find each other, fitting together like matching pieces of a puzzle, and Bluhen's lips leave his, head thrown back, neck exposed, and Herrscher's lips quickly move to the skin there, seeking something to keep his mouth busy lest he devolve to awkward smalltalk, ruin the moment. Bluhen's close, grinding, eids pulsing and swirling and close to bursting with the influx of emotion, magnified by the effect of Henir, and Herrscher fastens his pace, bites at his throat, tongue lavishing the flesh.

"Herr—" he grinds out, fingers lost in his hair; when did they get there? He tosses the thought aside to press their lips together, hand finding Bluhen's hardness, pulling, thumb pressing against the tip as he thrusts twice, three times more as deep as he can, Bluhen cumming over his hand and between them, and Herrscher is more than willing to fuck him through the mania Henir induces in his orgasm.

They can stay, cuddling, for a while. Henir won't bother Bluhen too much in sleep, he assumes, when he finally pulls out and sees the exhaustion in Blu's face, arms — his own, this time — wrapping around the other celestial and holding him close before he allows his own fatigue to take him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this in april and never posted it until now.

Blu is like putty underneath him, arm thrown over his face as if doing so would provide him with more privacy than he already had. His breathing is erratic — it's adorable, in a way, Herrscher muses, as he adjusts himself between the other's legs. Leg is hoisted over shoulder a moment later, and he practically bends Bluhen in half, presses as deep as he can into him. The other celestial is sensitive, especially in moments like these. He attributes it to the mark, glowing in his presence and amplifying those emotions the other holds so dear. His eids are his power, and they're never as strong as they are now, Blu overwhelmed with feelings, emotions a bit too difficult to explain. For someone as adept with them as he...

His body tenses, if only by a bit, and Bluhen's fingers trace the back of Herrscher's neck, and the latter finds himself shuddering at the touch. Blu's laughter is almost like bells, and the proximity of their faces only makes the sound reverberate.

"Did I— ah, hit a sensitive spot?" He asks in such an innocent tone, as though he knew not what he'd done, but the turn up of lips says otherwise. Intent is alluded to but not stated, and Herrscher's first response is to pull out and thrust harshly back in. Bluhen is reduced to a panting mess beneath him, and the face he has, eyes unfocused...

"You know what you did." The other knows his sensitivity, knows of his likes and dislikes. He considers it a bit of a blessing that Bluhen hadn't gone for pulling at his hair — at least, not yet. Not at all yet, they are hardly into this too-human experience.

He calls it too-human, but it's a mess of pleasure and emotion the void offers, only made carnal. Nails press into his shoulders, and he groans at the pressure, at the slight prick of pain it provides. To find pleasure from pain... His hand moves down, only to be stopped by Blu's own.

"That's unfair." He almost pouts, face flushed red. It's not as though his point isn't clear — overstimulation is easy for him, like this. The proximity alone amplifying any touch... Bluhen has just as many, if not more, buttons he can press, though, and with the one that he's already pushed... It's only right for him to be even.

And it's for that reason that Herrscher nears his lips near the other's neck, gently trails kisses from his throat up to his jawline, takes the lobe of his ear between his teeth. Blu's breath catches in his throat, and it's as quickly as he started those ministrations that he stops. He's caught somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, and his fingers ghost along the underside of his thigh absentmindedly.

"You're always so well-behaved like this. You lay there and let me do whatever it is that I please." A smile when he feels the other tense beneath him, grinding up against him, words alone getting him bothered. Perhaps he shouldn't tease him as he does, but... There's something about that helpless look, the way Bluhen looks when there's something he wants that's kept mere inches out of reach, that makes it satisfying to do so. "What a beautiful man. What have I done to deserve you?"

It's a rhetorical question, but the praise hits Bluhen all the same, body writhing slightly against Herrscher's, and the latter has to place his hands on his hips to steady him, keep him from moving too violently against him.

"Please—," the word comes out almost hushed, hurried, and his hips grind up, try to find friction where there's none to be found. He whines, eyes glazed, but he just smiles. "Herr— please, what do you want me to do? I want to—"

"Beg." Blu tears up a bit, sensitivity spelled in his face. His toes curl, and he knows that Herr is just playing upon things only to spur him on, but... "Come on, be a good boy. Beg for me to fuck you."

There's something about the vulgarity of it that makes Bluhen almost laugh, but he obliges, hips stuttering against the other. "Please— please fuck me. I need it. Please, I wanna cum— Herr, let me cu—"

He's cut off by a sharp thrust, keening, and his body leans into the motions, moves away, works against Herr's hips to bring himself to completion, back arching off of the bed as he does so, and there's the instant feeling of emptiness as Herrscher pulls out—

Only to have his hand wrap around him — both of them — pathetic spurts of cum teased out of him, and his body feels a bit lighter, face contorted in pleasure, eyes closed. It's not much longer for Herrscher to find his own end, face pressed into Bluhen's neck and both of their cum sticking to their stomachs. But, regardless of the amount of cleaning they'll have to do later...

Well, Herrscher will enjoy the sleeping Bluhen lying on top of him, collapsed in a pile of blue-white radiance.


End file.
